Grief
by DarkJediJade
Summary: Brief look into Isard's thoughts and reaction to the Emperor's death.


_A/N: Short one shot inspired by a recent chapter of The Sidious Chronicles. I wanted to touch on Isard's reaction to Palpatine's death. Moments I hate writing as a character actor. Getting in her head for this was pretty painful. Hope the end result was worth it however._

Isard's heart stopped for a moment when she heard the news. She heard her voice, following protocols automatically, but she felt detached from it. "You are certain this report is accurate? There is no possibility of an error?" she said.

"Madam Director, I was right in the front lines of the battle. His Majesty did not leave before the station was destroyed." the Grand Admiral confirmed.

"Thank you for notifying me. I will focus my energies on securing Coruscant. I do not doubt the Rebels will make all effort to spread this news quickly. Maintaing order is our first priority" Isard said, allowing a small sigh to escape at the thought of the chaos that would doubtless follow on the heels of this Rebel _victory_. Her lip curled at the thought of how those fools thought they were bettering the galaxy. It made her sick. The Grand Admiral's voice pulled her thoughts back to the present.

"My condolences to you. I understand you were close." the man said, and a small frown pulled at the corner's of Isard's mouth while she quirked an eyebrow at him.

"My relationship has nothing to do with securing the Empire." she said. "If you have nothing further constructive to add…" Isard paused giving the Grand Admiral a chance to speak but he remained silent. "Very well. I will see to my duties as you should to yours." she said before disconnecting the call. Retreating to her private office, Isard leaned her head back against the wall and closed her eyes, taking several deep breaths to steady herself as she absorbed the shock of the news. The Emperor was dead. Her lover, the only man she had ever truly loved, was dead at Rebel hands. Her fists clenched in rage. She would hunt down every last Rebel, ever traitor to the Empire, and she would make them pay. Palpatine's grandest gift to her, the _Lusankya,_ would be well used. She would not rest until she made them pay for what they had done… the greatness they had robbed the galaxy of. A hesitant knock on the door to her office drew her focus as a young aide entered.

"Please forgive my intrusion." the aide said, glancing at her nervously. Typically she would not allow such boldness as entering without permission to slide, but Isard found herself suddenly tired. She just wanted to do what was needed and make her way home.

"What is it?" she snapped.

"The Grand Vizier wishes to speak with you as soon as possible. He asked me to relay that message to you." the aide said, his voice quaking as he spoke.

"Of course he does." Isard muttered under her breath. Louder for the benefit of the aide she said "You may tell Pestage I shall be by shortly to speak with him- as soon as it is convenient for me." she said, her tone imperious. So the scavengers were already circling.

As the door to her apartment slide shut, Isard engaged the sound dampening system. Tears stung her eyes, and she tried to force them back as she worked her way mechanically through her evening routine. Entering the kitchen she sighed finding she had no real appetite as she looked through meal options. Deciding eating wasn't an option right now, she made her way to the fresher unit and ran a hot bath to try take her mind off things. Slipping out of her uniform a few tears rolled down her cheek and she wiped at them furiously. Settling herself into the hot water she felt some of the tension leave her shoulders. She closed her eyes and focused on breathing in and out steadily, but peace would not come. She felt restless. Finally she gave up on relaxing and stepped from the tub, drying herself off before wrapping herself in a shimmersilk robe. As she wrapped it around her, her hand grazed the small pendant that hung around her neck, typically tucked beneath her uniform and out of view. She jerked her hand back as though stung, then slowly brought her hand back to hold the simple charm in her hand. She had always loved the simple elegant shape of the Imperial crest, something Palpatine knew. She remembered the night he had given it to her, how touched she had been. Dropping her hand she sighed. That was the past now, and dwelling on it did her no good. Feeling exhaustion set in, both physical and emotional, she decided sleep was her best course of action and made her way to the sleep chamber.

The bed felt empty, too vast. It wasn't that she never slept alone. Too often she did. It was different tonight though, the knowledge she would sleep alone from now on, never feel her lover's arm's holding her after a night of passion as they wore themselves to exhaustion… that was the thought that broke her. Tears began to fall down her cheeks. As she wiped at them more quickly took their place and she gave a strangled cry of grief. She was alone in the galaxy. Utterly alone. The centre of her world, her love, her purpose was gone. She curled herself into a ball and wept openly. Tears soaked the pillow she clung to as all the pain she had hide surfaced in waves. Isard trembled and sobbed as she had not since she was a small child. Love, grief, tears.. they were weaknesses. She was weak. Oh she hid it well, but he had known the truth. He had known of her weakness and accepted her still. As much as her love weakened her, it brought him happiness… and she was happy to be weak if it please him. She would have done anything for him… but now he was gone. He was gone and she could afford to be weak no more. Her tears slowed then stopped. As she wiped them away she knew she would not cry again. No, she would be strong… for him. For honour of his memory and to keep is dream alive.


End file.
